


Ordinary Bread

by windfallswest



Series: Olin/Lands [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Last of The Jedi Series - Jude Watson
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-10-31 22:22:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17858069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windfallswest/pseuds/windfallswest
Summary: Before the Clone Wars, before the Empire, former Jedi apprentice Ferus Olin finds himself faced with a choice in a bakery on the planet of Bellassa.





	Ordinary Bread

**Author's Note:**

> In _Jedi Quest: The Final Showdown_ , Ferus Olin left the Jedi Order as a padawan on the brink of knighting. When we next see him in _The Last of the Jedi: The Desperate Mission_ , on the opposite side of the Clone Wars, he has a husband and a new career path. 
> 
> Iiiii...was not expecting to fall head over heels for these guys, but guess what? Since canon is VERY UNKIND, I'm backtracking to the golden days of sweet, romantic fluff before the Clone Wars and the Empire. First in a series.

Ferus Olin didn't know what he was doing on Bellassa. 

_Of course, to be fair, I don't really know what I'm doing anywhere._ He'd been on nearly a dozen planets so far in the five weeks since he'd left the Jedi Order. The High Council had provided for him well. They would have let him continue as Siri Tachi's Padawan; failing that, they had offered him a place in one of the Jedi Service Corps. But Ferus did not feel as though he was worthy of being part of the Order. Although he had never faced the formal Trials of a Jedi Knight, on his last mission he had proved that, when it really mattered, his judgement was flawed. 

Ferus knew he would have to settle down soon. The Jedi had given him credits and access to a database of contacts on which he could draw in starting his new life. To conserve his resources, Ferus had even taken berths as temporary crew on a couple of merchant ships; piloting, navigation, and basic mechanical repair had been part of his Jedi training. He was capable enough of the work, but it didn't call to him the way he had once felt called to the life of a Jedi. 

Perhaps that was wishful thinking. That was not the way the galaxy worked for most beings. The Force guided the decisions of Jedi; Ferus was no longer a Jedi. He would have to learn to decide things for himself. 

His options were bewildering in their scope. He had seen enough of the galaxy to know that that made him lucky; nevertheless, Ferus did not feel lucky. He felt adrift and increasingly frustrated with his own indecisiveness. How was he supposed to chart his own future when he could not even make a decision about a muffin in a café bakery?

Laughter from behind Ferus reminded him that he was not the only one in the queue; he should make his choice quickly and move on. _It doesn't really matter what you eat._

He made to reach for the muffin—no, the roll with blue butter—no, the muffin—when a man's arm snaked around him and plucked up both. Turning to object to this rudeness, Ferus was confronted by a broad, friendly grin. There was a double impact on his tray as the man behind him in line dropped roll and muffin onto Ferus' plate. 

Ferus stared down at it, nonplussed. "Now why didn't I think of that?"

The stranger was a few centimetres taller than Ferus, young, broad-shouldered, and athletic. His skin-tone was brown, a shade or so lighter than Ferus' and somewhere in the middle of the range for Bellassans, who were an extremely varied lot. He had curly dark hair with a faintly greenish cast and grey-green eyes that sparkled with humour in a friendly, open face.

The stranger laughed again, and it was a boisterous sort of laugh, one that invited you to laugh along. Ferus found himself smiling back despite the prickle of embarrassed heat on the back of his neck. 

"Maybe I'm just a great problem-solver," the stranger suggested. "I'm—"

"Ferus?" the barista behind the counter called, placing two steaming mugs on the counter and checking her data pad. "Roan?"  
The stranger claimed one of the mugs, its contents redolent with the unfamiliar seasonings particular to this world, this time waiting until after Ferus had collected his tea. "So, I guess we're Ferus and Roan."

"I guess we are." Inexplicably nervous, Ferus cast his gaze around the busy café. Large and obviously popular, its placement fronting a park around one of the city's iconic seven lakes drew in visitors and native Ussans alike. "There's a table outside."

A service droid was just finishing wiping it down. Ferus and Roan hurried over before it could be claimed by any of the café's other patrons.

"Good eye," Roan congratulated him. "I always prefer eating outside, don't you?"

Ferus had almost never eaten out of doors, except on missions. "The view of the lake is beautiful; it's almost hard to believe we're in the middle of a city. There's nothing like this on Coruscant."

Bellassa was a prosperous, developed Core world along the Hydian Way, too stable to require much Jedi attention. Nowhere near as crowded as the galactic capital, Ussa, the main spaceport, had chosen to spread out rather than build up, and was unlikely to run out of space anytime soon. Ussa had grown in rings around a cluster of seven large, interconnected crater lakes, legacy of meteor that had fragmented before striking the planet's surface in the distant past. Prudent city planning early on had preserved most of the lake shores for well-tended public parks and channeled the outflow through a series of arcing canals. Ferus hadn't been unduly flattering when he called the area beautiful.

"Is that where you're from?" Roan asked. "The accent."

"It's where I was raised," Ferus replied, his mood falling a bit. "What about you? Are you from Ussa?" he asked, turning the conversation around.

"Right here in Bluestone Lake," Roan said. "I've been attending university on Corellia, though. Just got back a few months ago."

"What were you studying?" 

"Computer and information services," Roan admitted with a wry twist to his lips. "Not very interesting, I know."

"Except to other computer techs."

"Ooh, hit it lucky, have I?"

"There's no such thing as luck," Ferus responded automatically. 

Roan's grin widened. "Well, whatever you call this, I'll settle for it."

Discomfited for no reason Ferus could understand, he dropped his attention to his neglected breakfast. _Muffin or roll?_ The roll was served hot; Ferus took a bite of it before he could be paralysed by indecision again.

Roan had a plate of stuffed, fried cakes streaked blue with melted butter, casually slicing off bites with the side of his fork. He kept an amused eye on Ferus as they ate.

"I know they say it's the most important meal, but I've never seen anyone look so serious about breakfast before."

"Sorry about that," Ferus apologised. "I guess when you have nothing figured out, it's harder to make decisions about anything."

"Well, that sounds like a story."

"A long one."

Roan's look grew questioning, but seeing how uncomfortable the topic made Ferus, he switched to peering into the dregs of his seasoned tea. "Sooo…want a refill?" he asked, playing up the change in subject until Ferus had to smile back at him.

"Thanks." _Say something else, you moron._ "So, do you have a job here? I promise I won't get bored if you tell me about it."

"I wouldn't put money on it. Even for info services, it's mind-numbing. Entry-level stuff, you know. But it pays, and it keeps me back home. Corellia was nice enough, but I missed Bellassa. You planning on staying for a while?"

"I don't know. I don't really have plans."

 _Home._ Ferus tried to imagine having that kind of connexion to a place. The Temple was the closest thing any Jedi had to a home, but few Jedi spent much time there after they became Padawans. Jedi went where they were needed, and left when they were done. _No attachments._

Ferus wasn't needed anywhere. He had no mission, no responsibilities to anyone other than himself. Nothing to tell him where he should go or what he should do. 

"So you're not crew on a ship? That's something," Roan said elliptically. 

"No; I have a room at a hostel in Sabaigrass Lake. The staff recommended this walk."

"Hey, I know some great hiking trails, if you're interested. My parents would take us to Gree Park when we were younger. It's a big chunk of land between three of the lakes that never got developed."

Roan turned out to have a large family, aunts, uncles, and cousins as well as three younger siblings. It seemed at once like and unlike growing up in the Temple, constantly surrounded by bustle and life, but of a very different kind. Roan talked expansively through the arrival of their refills, accompanied by a plate piled with hot twists of glazed pastry. Ferus did not have exact plans for the rest of his day, but at this rate they were going to have to include some form of more rigorous exercise. 

Taking a sip of his chai, Roan gave him a sheepish look over the rim of the mug. "Okay, so I can keep talking about myself if you want, but you're welcome to take a turn. What's your family like?"

"I...don't know." Ferus hesitated; his resignation and the reasons for it were still very painful subjects. But somehow it didn't seem fair not to offer some kind of explanation. "I was raised by the Jedi. I left the Order last month." 

Roan choked on his drink; some of it came spraying out onto the crumb-littered plate in front of him. He clapped a hand to his face in embarrassment and gratefully accepted the napkins Ferus handed him. 

"I think some of that came out my _nose_ , ugh, that _burns_ ," he said into the napkins.

Ferus couldn't help but laugh. His hand flew to cover his mouth, too. It was the first time he could remember laughing since before the mission to Korriban.

Roan narrowed his eyes, but when he finished wiping his face, it was clear he was still smiling. 

"Wow. I never really thought about anyone leaving the Jedi, but I guess it has to happen, if you think about it."

Ferus dropped his gaze. "I wouldn't have made a good Jedi."

There was an awkward beat of silence, and then Roan said, "Well, you're a great breakfast companion. Maybe you should open up a bakery."

Ferus was surprised into laughing again. "The only thing I've ever cooked are emergency rations. I'd be out of business before lunch."

"Tea shop?" Roan suggested. "Flower shop? Pet shop?"

"I never actually thought of any of those." The idea of starting his own enterprise hadn't occurred to Ferus. All his life, he had prepared to serve something greater than himself. The Republic; the Force. Working for himself seemed...well, self-serving. _Intimidating._

Roan waved a hand, as though to dispel the thoughtful frown Ferus could feel wrinkling his brow. "I don't mean to undersell you; you're probably here for some kind of big-time interview—and I keep saying the wrong thing? You can tell me to butt out anytime, sorry."

"It's not your fault," Ferus hastened to assure him. He didn't want to drive his unexpected companion away. "You're right; I should know what I'm doing, and I don't. I don't have a good reason. I'm just...drifting."

"Hey, woa, you don't have to justify yourself to me," Roan told him. 

"That just leaves myself, then," Ferus said glumly. 

"Sounds like a tough crowd."

Ferus sighed, resisting the urge to fidget, to rub his face and scuff the patio with his boot heel. _Maybe I should meditate._ But he had been increasingly reluctant to touch the Force. He had proved he did not have the judgement to use it wisely.

"Hey." Roan tapped the back of his hand to bring his attention back to the here and now. "You'll figure it out."


End file.
